Drouble Drabble, Toil and Treble!
by Phalanx
Summary: Assorted Drabbles/Droubles/Trebbles set in One Piece. Mostly focusing on minor characters-  Pell, Chaka, Bellemere, Momonga, Yamakaji, Strawberry . Chapter 3: Don't challenge crazy East Blue recruits to drinking competitions if you value your looks.
1. Sun Protection

One Piece, One Hundred Words

_**A/N: This popped into my head while rewatching the Alabasta arc. The hardest part was making it a true drabble of 100 words.**_

**Sun Protection**

When it came to their devil fruit powers, Pell had gotten the better deal, Chaka decided.

The first time they had transformed, Pell had gone soaring into the skies while Chaka had been left looking up in envy.

In comparison, a jackal was... meh.

However, flying came with its own set of dangers. When an exuberant Pell finally deigned to return to_ terra firma_, Chaka noticed that the smaller man seemed rather...

"...burned." Dr. Ooh pronounced, slapping ointment onto Pell's lobster-red skin and earning a yelp from the badly sunburned guardian. "Ever considered sun protection?"

Chaka _tried_ not to snicker.


	2. The Lonely Clinic In the Sands

Trebble: Three Hundred Words

_**A/N: While working on the next chapter for TABCF this popped out. It had to go somewhere!**_

**The Lonely Clinic In the Sands**

They had always said he was mad for opening a clinic in the middle of the desert.

"Who in their right mind would come all the way out here?" they said. "You're wasting your time,."

Well he liked the solitude of the desert. That, and he was a doctor who hated crowds so it made sense. Besides, it was strategically located to receive the travellers crossing the desert who would no doubt have collapsed of sun-stroke or dehydration by then. That was good enough for him.

Still to be a real clinic you'd need real patients. And just as luck would have it, no one seemed intent on crossing the desert in the four-year drought. So he had no patients.

"Told you so," said his smug colleagues. The doctor ignored them. He'd show them. Just wait.

Weeks passed, but his little clinic remained empty. The rebel army approached him once, seeking a medic to bolster their ranks. He told them to sod off.

His clinic had been built from funds granted to him by King Cobra himself.

But as the days dragged on and news of the rebellion and war broke out, he began to wonder if he really hadn't made a mistake.

On the eve of the war, he buckled and began packing supplies. He'd go to Alurbarna to offer his services the next day.

"Sorry," he said to the lonely clinic as he locked the door. The doctor felt a twinge of sadness. The little clinic just looked so lonely, so unfulfilled. "You never got a chance to prove yourself."

As if on cue, a man in white suddenly fell out of the sky and crashed right into the roof (mercifully thatched, not stone) of the clinic.

The doctor blinked once.

And then he unlocked the door again.


	3. MulletMan and MohawkGirl

Trebble: Three Hundred Words

Characters: Momonga, Yamakaji, Strawberry, Bellemere.

_**A/N: **_**This is actually linked to the 3****rd chapter of my other fic, "The Supernova Eleven", where Bellemere and Momonga know each other...**

**Mullet-Man and Mohawk-Girl**

She was going to be a trouble-maker.

Momonga knew it from the moment he walked into the mess hall and found the young recruit engaging in an arm-wrestling match, complete with cheering onlookers in the background.

He knew the type: young, renegade, misfit... a rebel without a cause but desperate for something to prove.

"Heard she's from the East Blue."

"Do all East Blue women have such strange hairstyles?" muttered Strawberry, carefully maneuvering between hanging lamps in order not to tangle his own formidable coiffure. _His_ tower of hair, with cap perched on top, made a hypocritical mockery of his words.

"Must be an East Blue thing," Yamakaji commented, "They're all a bit... _nuts_, you know."

"I'm pretty sure we can't judge all marines from the East Blue just by _Garp_." Momonga said, his sense of justice kicking in.

"Three words. Lieutenant. Smoker. Loose-cannon." Strawberry's face showed absolutely no emotion as he spoke.

"That's _four _words," Yamakaji quibbled.

Momonga rolled his eyes.

* * *

He found out later that her name was Bellemere. Not that he had enquired or anything. He'd been minding his own business at the marine bar, enjoying a hard-earned drink, when she'd barged in.

Within the half-hour, her presence immediately triggered a drinking competition.

"C'mon, who else is in? Hey, you with the mullet, what about it?" Momonga cringed as the woman pointed at him.

"B-Bellemere, that's Commodore Momonga!"

"So what?"

Momonga held up a hand. "No thanks."

"Oh, can't hold his drink?"

"_Excuse me?" _Exasperated, Momonga rose to his feet._ "_I can drink you under the table, Mohawk-girl!

"Wanna bet?"

"With what?"

"How about... loser gets a..."

* * *

"... _new haircut_?" Yamakaji asked the hungover commodore the next morning.

* * *

**_And that was how Momonga got his mohawk!_**


End file.
